Dear Professor
by AmyAndromeda
Summary: Hermione losses someting. Snape has a very interesting discovery to make. Try as they may secrets will be revieled. Some that perhaps should be left in the dark. AU SS/HG
1. Rescued

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. All belongs to J.K and Warner Bros.

**A/N: **This is my first fanfiction in years and I would just like to think my wonderful beta, Severus' Malfoy Maiden, for getting me on the right track. Please review, I welcome all advice and criticism. Words of praise are always welcome as well. :)

Dear Professor,

For some time now, I have found myself enjoying a growing infatuation with you that rages inside of me. The feeling can only be compared to an emotional hurricane.

The sound of your voice sends pleasant shivers down my spine. When you speak, I see your lips, and though they're soft in appearance, they become stiff and unyielding as if they're trying to hold the words back. It causes the seductive cadence of your baritone to pronounce each syllable succinctly.

It's as your lips caress each word, drawing them out and making them beg for more.

On the rare occasions in which you speak my name, causes my heart to flutter and my mind to freeze. I gaze into the depths of your black eyes and you must see the heat of my skin and the quickening of my pulse in preparation for our union.

My mouth waters at the thought of our flesh becoming one. I long to see your silky strands of black as night hair splayed across my pillow as you writhe beneath me, begging me to bring to the earth shattering climax for which you yearn.

Know that all I wish to be is the lover you deserve, and the whore you want. I will make all your fantasies come true.

I will bow to your feet as a servant or reign as your queen. I will beg for more, all the while knowing that I will never be enough for you.

Always yours.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

The last class of the day finally left, and hoping to relax before dinner or get started on the mountain of paperwork, Professor Snape walked back into his classroom for a final walk-through before he took his leave. He observed all that was left out of place, noting the house and reducing points from whoever had occupied the space during class.

The students would be surprised to see their house points diminished at their lack of tidiness.

While passing one of the tables closest to the door, he notices a scrap of parchment lying on the floor. He sighed, picking it up. No points there, he thought. He wouldn't be able to find the owner of this trash. Before he tossed in the rubbish, he noticed writing on the back; a feminine script neatly lined and confidently written. Intriguing, he thought.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Hermione was frantic. In her room, she turned her school bag inside out onto her bed. 'How could I be so careless?' Hermione berated herself. It was such a small piece of parchment, but it was very important, and if it was found... The thought of anyone reading it had her heart pounding and her hair sparkingwith anxiety magic. The only solace she took was that she had not written her name on it. After she had gone through everything, Hermione sat on her bed breathless.

In a moment of ill fitted inspiration during potions that day, she had torn off a piece of parchment and written to what she felt. Hermione had taken to doing this lately, always stuffing the pages into her bag to either be locked in her desk or to be burned; depending on how she later felt or the degree of what she wrote. The note today was ment to be burned. Cast out and never thought of again, at least until the next time she had potions.

Sitting there, the solution came to her like a light bulb. Hermione picked up her wand from her side and cast, " Accio Severus' letter." She sat in silence, wondering if it would work, when the letter flew under her door and into her lap. Her words stared back at her as she lifted the parchment with her left hand, her wand held to it in her right. "Incendio." The letter burst into flame which quickly died. The only trace now was the faint smell of fire.

Hermione relaxed, the situation now resolved. However, the frustration ebbed in and out. She could never let this happen again. She dreaded the thought of another person finding what she had written, knowing what she truly felt. 'What if Professor Snape had found it?' she thought as she considered her actions.

"No more," she said aloud to herself, coming to a decision. She would no longer write her feelings, her thoughts. Perhaps, if she no longer wrote them, she would no longer feel them. Perhaps.


	2. Electric

**Disclaimer:** Oh, how I wish upon the stars that all was mine. Sadly, it is not to be. For all of this wonder belongs to the one and only Rowling.

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It had been in his hand. The note suggesting very lurid acts was in his grasp one moment, and then, gone. It had flown out of reach, under the door and down the corridor. Professor Snape debated whether or not to go after it. To find the culprit and confront them first hand. He assumedthat the person who left it was the same to cast for its return, fretting the out come if they were to be found by the professor. They had every right to be anxious. He had become witness to the degradation of himself, constructed by the mind of a student. And now Severus Snape had a new assignment for himself. He would find this student. And punishment would be swift.

Since there had not been a name written upon the parchment, he would have to go about finding the student through craftier ways. He did have the chance to take note of the writing itself. Bubbled and carefully constructed, clearly someone with a meticulous mind and a well practiced hand in penmanship. He had known these students for seven years. He would notice the writing when it once again passes him. Behaviour would also be key in the identification process. The culprit knew they had left it, and it hadn't taken them long to react. Perhaps they feared the worst, as they should. That Snape had found and read their tantalizing words.

'What if it's her?' The thought crossed his mind for a mere moment; almost too fast for himself to notice. But he did. And he dare not want to continue that thought process. But he did. If the note had come from her, from that infuriating woman. 'GIRL! She is just a _girl_.' His thoughts of her continued, as they always did. If the note was written by her, what would he do? Any other student and it would be simple. He would make them wish they had died of embarrassment rather than think of him that way again and send them off with a month's worth of detention, doing some menial task that would drive them insane with boredom.

But her.

She would be treated differently. She would be treated exactly the way she wished in her letter to him. If it was her letter to him. Severus tried to recall his favorite part as he swooped to the front of the class, around his desk and sat on the uncomfortable chair.

'The lover you deserve, 'he thought. "And the whore you want." Is this what she really thought of him?

No.

He was getting far too ahead of himself. He couldn't just assume it was her because he wanted it to be. It could have easily been Pansy or one of the other Slytherin girls, harboring a crush on their head of house. The best way to solve this mystery was to observe all the girls of the class. The attention he would pay Hermione would just be extra attentive.

As Severus sat at the desk, he stared at the stacks of pages to be graded. From an outward glance, one would think he was intensely considering the assignment before him as something other than the drivel that it was. However, what he couldn't stop thinking of was Hermione. Since term started almost a month and a half ago, he found himself thinking of her more and more. Severus thought of her lovely breasts as she bent over her cauldron during class. The way they would push forward, teasing him to take a peek further down her blouse. Most days he did, descreetly of course. Severus felt himself becoming harder by the second, the electricity of his thoughts starting take hold of his body. His breathing became shallow and he couldn't help but wonder what she would look like under the same condition as he.

'Stop!' he thought whenever his thoughts of her went far beyond the threshold of decency. Severus closed his eyes, taking deep calming breathes. Slowly, it began to work and he opened his eyes.

"No more," he said. "No more."

**A/N:** Please review. Reviews drive the story forward, as all who write know. It should also be known that the only reason any of us are enjoying this is because of the greatness that is Severus' Malfoy Maiden. Our relationship has only begun, but my admiration only grows.


	3. Stuck to You

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry the update took so long. I hope you stick in there with me. And please review.

Title: Dear Professor

Chapter Three: Stuck to You

Rated: M

Beta: Severus' Malfoy Maiden

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Monday morning, and Hermione woke with a terrible headache. She opened her eyes and groaned as her limbs protested the awkward position they had been holding in her sleeping state for the past few hours. Slowly, she disentangled herself from the bed clothes and sat up, letting her feet fall off the bed to the floor.

Her body fought her all the way to the loo, yearning for the comfort of her bed, as she made her way to get ready for the beginning of the school week. She turned the hot water tap on high. Her bedroom was quite drafty and the weather had begun to turn as the land prepared for colder months ahead.

Hermione removed the little amount of clothing she wore to bed and entered the stall. The hot water soothed her aching body as she washed her hair and proceeded to scrub her body, the grape and shea butter scent of her wash wafting around her.

Just as the water was beginning to get cold from her extended period in the shower, Hermione shut it off, wrapped herself in a towel and walked into her room to dress for the day. As she was buttoning her shirt, her mind began repeating the promise she made to herself since her last class, potions.

'I will not look at him. I will not speak to him unless spoken to. And I will certainly _not_ write of him.' Hermione repeated this ten times more as she finished her morning routine. She then grabbed her bag and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hermione was just walking down the stairs to the Great Hall when she heard her name being called.

"Hermione!" She turned to see Ginny Weasley making her way down the stairs.

"Ginny, how are you?" Hermione asked her old friend.

"Quite well, yeah. Question for you though."

"What is it?" Hermione was expecting Ginny to request help with work. Perhaps astronomy or runes. Instead, Ginny asked, "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No," Hermione responded casually, not really giving thought to the question initially. Then her mind began to process.

_'Why would Ginny want to know if I was seeing someone? Is there someone interested in me? Why do I want to know? It's not like they would even compare to Profess- NO! Stop._'

"Sorry Ginny, why do you want to know?" Hermione asked.

"No reason." She said it so casually that Hermione didn't know if she should actually be worried or if Ginny was just seeking knowledge about her friend.

Ginny walked away and Hermione resigned to simply worry about it when and if the time came.

Hermione entered the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table next to Ron, already deep into his usual five course breakfast.

"Hi 'Mione," He greeted with a mouth full of beans and egg. Hermione looked at him, not able to hold back the look of disgust from reaching her face as she looked at Ron chewing open mouthed.

"Ron, do you realize that we do live in a civilized society with certain etiquette and protocol?"

"Yeah."

"Then why do you insist on eating like such an animal?"

"It goes with my animal magnetism," Ron responded with a grin and far too much pride. Hermione laughed and nudged him with her shoulder.

"You're deplorable."

"Then why are you smiling?" Ron asked nudging her back.

Sometimes, Hermione wished things could be simpler. There was a time that she harbored feelings of a romantic nature about Ron. Perhaps, a future together with little ginger kids running about, but the thoughts passed as her and Ron developed a more familiar relationship. She began to see him as she did Harry, like a brother.

Just then, Harry sat across from them, filling his plate with eggs and toast.

"Hi ya," He acknowledged them before he went to work on his plate, focusing mainly on the bread and just pushing the egg about with his fork. "So, what do we have today?" he asked Hermione. Harry still didn't pay much attention to his class schedule, or class work for that matter. It's not that he wasn't bright. Hermione knew full well the extent of his capability. It seemed lately that he was detached. So far away yet fighting to be ever so present.

Hermione, always the responsible party responded to Harry's inquiry. "We have Defence Against the Dark Arts after breakfast, break till lunch and double Potions after."

Harry and Ron groaned in unison. Hermione wanted to join them for an altogether different reason.

"Why? Why do we have to be the unfortunate ones?" Ron asked dramatically.

"Really, if you two paid attention to what's actually going on in your lives, you would be able to prepare for this."

"Hermione, this isn't our lives. It's just class," Harry said.

"Class is an important part of our lives," She responded

"No, Hermione," Harry continued. "It's an important part of your life." He pushed his plate away, grabbed his bag and made his way out of the hall. Hermione briefly wondered if she would be seeing him in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Then Harry's words passed once more through her mind.

Class was important to her. One class in particular. She wanted so desperately to look at the staff table. The conversation with Harry and Ron had distracted her. Now, however, Ron had no interest in conversation as he was finishing his meal.

She just wanted to look at him, if only briefly. To see the pale skin of his face shrouded by his ink black hair. More than anything, she wanted to stare at his lips. She's had dreams about those lips. Her mind has seen them do so much more than scolding.

Hermione willed her eyes to remain on the half drained glass of pumpkin juice she was pushing back and forth, from one hand to the other. In her mind, she could see herself turning her head to see if he's there. He is. She sees their eyes meeting.

_'And what then_?' she thinks as she constructs this fantasy. 'Then, then he stands abruptly. I don't know if he's leaving at first. Then I see he's making his way around the staff table and down the row of tables between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. My heart races as he makes his way to me. I don't know why, but I stand. If he is meaning to leave, I am now blocking his exit. Part of me knows what he wants. The other part is frightened. What if I'm wrong? I'm never wrong. He doesn't slow as he approaches me and I think he might just crash into me. However, as he nears, his pace slows a fraction and his arms reach out. He places his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to hold his gaze. His body presses to mine. _Say it, h_e whispers to me. My knees go weak and my mind feels like it was never even there. He lowers his face to mine. His forehead now resting on mine. If I push only a little further I could finally feel him, taste him. _Say it, Ms Granger, h_e instructs once more. And I comply. _I need you, now._'

"'Mione?" Hermione is reeled out of her daze by Ron, now standing next to her, bag over his shoulder. "We're gonna be late, come on."

"Yeah, right behind you," Hermione answers, trying her best to sound casual. Ron left her knowing full well she wouldn't dip out of class, no matter how funny she was acting.

She took a breath to steady herself. Hermione grabbed her bag and proceeded out of the hall. She had accomplished her task and for that she was proud of herself. She had not looked at the staff table. 'Now all I have to do is have fantasies to distract me and I'll make it through this school year yet.'

"_Pathetic,_" she said to herself.

"Who's pathetic?" Ginny asked, walking up behind her.

"What? No one. Well, me if we're getting specific," Hermione spouted.

"You're too hard on yourself. I have news for you. It might be pleasant enough to turn that, that, whatever that look is on your face into a smile," Ginny said.

"Right. Ginny, what is it?"

"Someone likes you."

_'Crap. I didn't want to worry about whatever Ginny was up to this soon_.'

"That's nice, I guess."

"You sound really enthusiastic," Ginny said sarcastically. "You don't even know who it is."

"Okay, who is it?"

"Seamus, he really likes you. He just doesn't know how to talk to you."

"Wow Ginny, Seamus is really sweet, it's just..." Hermione trailed off.

"Just what? You said he's really sweet. You've known him forever. Maybe not the best of friends, but that leaves room to get to know each other. So, what's the problem?"

_'The problem is I have a ridiculous crush on our potions teacher and I fantasize about fucking him almost every night_.'

"Ginny, he's just not my type."

"So, what is your type?"

_'Older unavailable yet unbelievably sexy men.'_

"I don't know really."

"Just talk to him."

"I'll talk to him, but I really only see him as a friend."

"Then talk to him as a friend, please."

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Hermione," Ginny said as she made her way down the hall in the opposite direction of Hermione.

Hermione made her way to class wondering what it was in the world that made the people you had no interest in, like you and the ones you really want not even give you a passing glance.

_'It would help if I didn't want my professor_.'


End file.
